


Heartchains

by mysteriouslypeculiar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/F, Hogwarts Eighth Year, I'm gay, Joanne will have to physically appear in my house to stop the gay, M/M, Multi, They're All Gay, Unless Stated Otherwise, also, assume everyone's alive, but then again, except for the one's I'm fine with being dead, i don't care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 13,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriouslypeculiar/pseuds/mysteriouslypeculiar
Summary: When Pansy Parkinson's parents started to shun her because of her relationships, she locks her heart in a cage.When Hermione Granger's heart is torn to shreads, she locks it in a cage.Little do these girls know, their hearts are chained to each other.I started this on Wattpad, and I'm going to copy the 17 chapters I've already written here and then continue it on both platforms. :)





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: This takes place during eighth year post-war. I may change the deaths because fuck that. No deaths for me. Warning may slightly be out of character but that's only because I'm not very good at writing for Hermione. However, I've had this idea in my head for ages and it had to be put to words. Enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a rough week for Hermione Granger. She and Ron had had one of their biggest rows yet- he's still not talking to her. It had been almost a week and no ends have seen to be met. She fears that this may be the end of their relationship. Not their friendship - just the romanticish part.

She sighed and finished packing her suitcase. Today was the day she would return to Hogwarts for her eighth (seventh really) year. She needed to finish her education for her to feel fit to run a job.

"It'll be just like all the other years." She thought but she knew that that wasn't true. It was not going to be like the other years for this year, she would not be sharing a room with her old friends. She might not even see her three best friends there at all. Ron won't talk to her and Harry hasn't answered back yet.

Of course it must be difficult for them to return. She thought. With all of the shit that went down last year...Oh, am I pushing them to hard? I should apologize to them...

She shook her head. Nonsense. She looked at her watch.

"Oh, no!" She moaned. "I'm going to be late."

She hurriedly shoved the rest of her things into her purse and grabbed her wand. She apparated to the platform which was surprisingly full compared to the fact that there had been a war one year prior.

She breathed deeply as she sunk into the seats of the Hogwarts express.

"It's good to be back." She said as the train pulled out of the station.


	2. Chapter 2

Pansy Parkinson was having a lovely week. Her parents had allowed her to go back to Hogwarts (not that she would have listened if they hadn't) and she was finally going to see her friends again. So much tension had built up the last few years and then it had been let out in one swift movement. She could hardly believe it was over. All that war was done. Voldemort was dead. He was gone. No more fighting for her life. She could finally sleep at night.

She sighed and lied down on the bed. 

"Pansy? Are you ready to go?" Asked her aunt, walking into her room. Her aunt and uncle had agreed to take care of her while her parents were in Azkaban. 

'It's not like they do very much parenting when they're here.' Pansy had thought when she received the news. 

"Yes."

"Come downstairs then darling. I'm not the one going to Hogwarts." She said with a grin. Her aunt was quite the opposite of everything people assume of Parkinson's. While she did look like one, slanted, dark green eyes, thick black hair, heart shaped lips and a slender figure, her personality is anything but the stereotype of a Parkinson. Pansy's aunt has a wonderful sense of humor, hardly rude at all, and her laugh doesn't sound of that of a dying cat (as people have said her own does). 

"I know, I know." Pansy replies, standing up.

"Is something bothering you dear?" Her aunt asks, concern flitting her face.

"No, no. Just nervous about going back." She lies. She's not nervous about school. It's the people at school she's worried about. She was awful to them and when she saw what the death eaters did to people...she can't help but remember that her parents were one of them and that she almost was too. 'I'll have to apologize to everyone.' She thought. 

She then remembered that she had almost handed Harry Potter over to them. 

'I don't deserve forgiveness.' She thought darkly.

She checked her watch and then sat down.

"What's botherin' you?' She asked.

"Nothing!" Pansy says defensively, standing up. "Hurry up or we'll miss the train."

"Pansy Parkinson. I am not leaving until you tell me what is wrong. We'll aparate to Hogwarts if we have to."

"You can't apparate to Hogwarts ."She mumbles, automatically feeling like Granger. "And I'm not lying. Nothing's really bothering me."

"Fine." Her aunt says firmly. "We'd better go then."

"Alright." Pansy grabbed her things and they apparated to the station.

Once at the station, she noticed how early she was. Barely anyone was there.

She hugged her aunt goodbye and got onto the train, hoping that the less people onboard, the less people there were to bother her. She was wrong.

"Oi, Parkinson." Sneered a gryffindor 7th year. "Didn't think you'd show up this year."

"How're your parents enjoying Azkaban?"

"Rot in a cell, Slytherscum."

She was biting back tears as she sat down in an empty compartment. She cast a locking charm on the door.

'Why'd I come back?' She thought miserably. 'I don't deserve to be here. This place makes me happy so I don't deserve to be here.'

She was about to get off the train when a loud knock broke through her thoughts. 

"Oi, Pansy. Mind letting us in?" 

She looked up at the door and saw Blaise standing there.

She unlocked the door and Blaise entered the compartment.

"Merlin, those kids sure are getting rough." Blaise said, chuckling.

He must have noticed the tears in her eyes because he groaned and said: "Not you too Pansy," Blaise moaned. "It's bad enough that I have to deal with Draco moping but now you?"

"Who said anything about moping?" Pansy asked, straitening up.

They talked for most of the ride up, only stopping once in a while to catch their breath after a particularly funny joke.

"You should've seen her face!" Said Blaise loudly. "She was all like 'n-no, p-please don't hurt me. I promis-se I w-won't tell." He broke out into laughter again.

Pansy had not found that funny. 

"What's the matter with you? You used to love that one." Blaise asked, looking at her questionably. "Haven't gotten soft have you?" 

"No. I just don't find that joke particularly funny." Pansy says, sticking out her nose. In truth, Pansy had always found that story funny. Blaise had tricked a first year into thinking he let slip to her a secret and he was going to hurt her if she told anyone. She had found it funny when it first happened, but now she can relate to the little girl in the ways of being used and manipulated through fear. Speaking of manipulated through fear.

"Where's Draco?" She asked, worried that he might not be returning.

"Oh, he's coming, don't worry, he just got held up by Potter and you know how he gets around Potter." He rolled his eyes and then flashed his signature smirk.

Pansy giggled. 

"He's still on with him? I thought he'd realize by now that Potter is un-bendable?"

Blaise scoffed. 

"Un-bendable? Have you been reading the Daily Profit recently?"

"You know I cancelled my subscription." She said heatedly. They've been posting slander about Slytherins since Voldemort was defeated. 

"Well, you can read mine." He dug into his bag and pulled out the paper. He handed it to Pansy.

She looked at the front page. 

Written in bold font across the front of the paper were the words:

"Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived Under a Closet, Comes Out of it"

"Woah." Pansy said. "Has Draco seen this?"

"Not yet. If he'd hurry up, I'd show him, but if not I'll have to show him at school."

"Speaking of school, we're almost there." Pansy says, looking out the window at the school in the distance.

By the time they had changed into their robes, they were at school. 

As Pansy was getting off the train, Hermione Granger ran past her, nearly knocking her over.

'Wonder why she's going so fast.' She thought.

"Library open early mudblood?" Blaise yelled at her. She didn't seem to notice.

"Is that necessary?" Pansy asked.

Blaise looked at her like she'd grown a new head.

"You have gotten soft haven't you."

"No, I just don't think you should go around throwing insults at other eighth years. You're on probation remember?"

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes lazily but he didn't make another remark as they walked to the carriages.

Pansy screamed as she got near them and so did a couple other people. 

Standing between the usually self-pulled carriages, were bat like horses. 

"Thestrals." Said a voice behind them. 

Pansy turned to see Draco standing next to Luna Lovegood. 

"At least that's what Luna calls them."

"Draco, where were you?"

"I was ambushed by a group of gryffindors and Luna pulled me into her compartment. I decided to stay in her compartment."

"You're very good company." Luna said pensively.

Draco blushed slightly pink. 

"We should get into a carriage before they're all full."

"Great idea." Pansy said and they got into a carriage.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione sighed heavily as the train pulled into Hogsmeade station. Both Harry and Ron had come back for an eighth year and the train ride up had been very tense. 

"I don't understand why you made me leave the compartment while you two changed." Hermione said as they grabbed their things. "It's not like we don't do this every year."

"It's different this year." Ron said hastily.

"How so?

"It just is." Ron replied hotly, turning from her.

Hermione looked at Harry who avoided her gaze.

'Not him too.' She thought. 'I can't have both of them mad at me.'

"Fine. If it's so different, I guess I'll be off. I can tell when I'm not wanted." She said, reaching for the compartment door.

"Hermione, wait." Harry said.

"Let her." Ron said softly. "We're here anyway."

Hermione huffed and slammed the door. 

She hurried out of the train and rushed into the mob of people surrounding it.

She ran through the crowd towards the thestral-drawn carriages. She bumped into a few people and she barely registered someone yelling something at her. She sat down in the nearest carriage and shut the door. Now just to wait. 

"You're very good company." Hermione heard. 

'Luna' She thought, recognizing the voice.

"We should probably get in a carraige before they're all full." Another voice said. 

'Malfoy? What's he doing with Luna? I never thought they'd be friends...maybe she sees things in him that others do not.' Hermione was still pondering this when the door to the carriage swung open.

The carriage shook as people entered and sat down. 

"Blaise, shut the fuck up. Potter would never go for someone like me. Not like I even want him to. I DON'T LIKE HIM SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!!!"

"Um, hi?" Hermione said awkwardly, she probably wasn't supposed to hear that.

"Hullo Hermione." Luna said, as if she knew the entire time that Hermione had been there.

The lights flickered on in the carriage, just in time to illuminate the bright red blush on Draco's face.

Hermione chuckled slightly., "Your secret's safe with me." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said but he was visibly relieved.

"Suuure." Pansy said dramatically. "Oh Pansy, did you see Potter during Potions? He fucked up so badly, I almost wanted to help him! Oh Pansy, did you see Potter? Potter? Potter? Did you see Potter?" She obviously would have continued if Draco hadn't had slapped her playfully. 

"Shuttap." He said, slumping into his chair.

"Oh sweetie, don't mope. You're making a bad impression on our guest." She motioned to Hermione.

Draco sat up as if he had just realized that Hermione was there. 

"Guest?" Hermione said. "Last I recalled, these carriages belonged to the school, not you." 

"That's where you're right, Granger." Pansy said oddly cheerfully. 

"Like always." Blaise adds in a loud undertone. 

Pansy flicked his shoulder. "Don't be rude."

"Like you should talk." He snapped, slumping back into his chair. 

Pansy snapped back into her spot. She shot Blaise a look of pure dislike.

No one talked the rest of the ride, save Luna who hummed a song no one could identify.


	4. Chapter 4

The carriage stops at the castle and everyone gets off.

Pansy runs off through the crowd, tears stinging her eyes once more. 

'What's wrong with me? Why am I so touchy? It's not like what Blaise said was anything hard. I know that already, I was mean. So what? I've made the promise to be nice already? What more does he want from me?' She trips over a rock, sending her straight to the ground. 

"Lovely." She says, seeing the deep gash that the rock left in her ankle. "Hey, now I have a reason to cry." She says darkly. 

"Ohmygosh, are you alright?" 

Pansy asks, seeing a small girl running over to her. 

"I'm fine, nothing a quick spell can't fix."

"That looks deep. Are you sure? You might need stitches."

"Stitches?" Isn't that a-" She stops. This girl must be muggle-born.

"Episkey." Pansy says and the gash disappears. "See, all done. No skitches needed." 

"Woah." She said quietly, staring at her ankle. "How'd you do that?" 

"Magic." She said, standing up. "All better." She bends down to grab her stuff and starts walking to the castle. 

"Wait!" Pansy stops and tuns around. The little girl runs up to her. 

"I, um, I don't..."

"Know where you're supposed to go?" Pansy says, smile playing at her lip. 

The girl nods. 

'I should take her to the whomping willow...No, that's not nice. I have to be nice.'

"Here, I'll take you." She reaches out her hand for the girl, who takes it.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while before Pansy started to talk.

"So, what's your name?"

"Dorothy Attwood. My friend's here too her name's Zoe. I met her on the train."

"My name's Pansy."

"Oooh, that's pretty!"

Pansy was glad that Dorothy was muggle-born. She couldn't have any prejudices on her because of her house. Speaking of houses.

"Do you know what house you'll be in?"

"House?" 

"Oh, right, everyone gets sorted into a house on their first year. What house you're sorted into basically determines where your common room is." She didn't feel like telling her it was personality-wise.

"What houses are there?" She asked, getting excited.

"Oh, there's Slytherin, that's my house. It's about being cunning and ambitiousness."

"What's that mean?"

"Looking after yourself and dreaming big."

"Oh, I like that one."

Pansy smiled. "So do I. Then there's Ravenclaw. That's the house of intelligence and creativity."

"Oh, I like that one too."

"Then there' s Hufflepuff."

Dorothy giggled at the name.

"Hufflepuff's about being loyal, and hardworking."

"Oooh."

"And last is Gryffindor. That's the house of bravery and chivalry."

"What's chivalry?"

"Being nice to people."

"Oooh. But you're nice, why aren't you in Gryffindor?"

"Gryffindor's not the only house that can be nice." She said, slightly snappy.

"Sorry."

"Hey, it's just that the other houses sort of don't like my house."

"You're a Slythin right?"

"Slytherin, and yeah."

"Don't they just want to go for there dreams?"

"Yeah."

"Why don't they like you?"

"They think we're evil."

"Why?"

"Because this evil dude came from our house and he was really mean. He killed a bunch of people and everyone was scared of him." She didn't tell her about the huge number of followers that came from her house.

"What happened to him?"

"Harry Potter killed him."

"Who's that?'

"A gryffindor. He's the same age as me."

"How old are you?"

"Turning 18 in winter."

"Woah. I'm 11."

"Can I tell you something about Harry Potter?"

"What?"

"You have to promise not to tell anyone."

"I won't."

"My best friend's in love with him."

"What's her name?"

"Him. And I can't tell you that."

"I won't tell anyone!"

"Nope. So, what house do you think you'll be in?" She asked, changing the subject.

"I like Slytherin. And Ravenclaw. And Hufflepuff."

"Well, luckily, you'll be sorted soon." She pointed at the entrance to the castle which was in front of them. 

"I'm nervous."

"Don't be." Pansy opened the door and led her up the stair to where all the first years were waiting.

"Good afternoon first years." Mcgonagall said, eyes scanning the group of first years. "Miss Parkinson?" She asked, genuinely surprised to see the familiar face. "Miss Parkinson," She said, regaining her composer, "I must ask you to enter the great hall, for you are not a first year." 

Pansy nodded and walked up the steps to the great hall. As she passed Professor Mcgonagall, she felt a hand placed comfortably on her back. She smiled to herself. 

'Maybe there is a chance for me.' She thought as she walked into the great hall.


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh, hurry up would you?" Hermione heard Ron moan. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving." Seamus said,a smile tugging at his lips. Hermione had never seen Seamus smile like that, she'd ask him about it later. 

Ron was still not talking to her, in fact, he seemed perfectly content with his spot three seats away from herself.

The Great Halls door's opened and everyone turned around to get a glimpse of the first years. But, instead of the gaggle of giggling first years, in walked Pansy Parkinson. 

'Hm, that's odd. Why isn't she with her friends?' Hermione thought.

Apparently other people were thinking the same things. They started shouting at her, all kinds of awful things. The shouts ranged from direct attacks:

"Where's your death-eater friends, Pugsy?" 

To indirect attacks to the teachers:

"I can't believe they let the bitch back here." Ron had shouted. 

Pansy stopped in her tracks, tears spilled from her eyes. She turned on her heels and ran out the door. The great hall, save Slytherin, erupted in a mix of cheers and laughter. 

Hermione felt her heart jolt. This was awful. To make matters worse, the teachers hadn't even did anything about it. They just let it happen. 

"Lousy cunt deserved it." Ron said. "Right Hermione?"

Hermione turned toward him. Not only was that the first time he had spoken to her that day, it was to insult a girl who just ran out crying.

"No, I don't think she did." She said, sitting up. 

"What?" Ron said, looking incredulous. 

"No one deserves to be humiliated like that. Sure, she might have messed up but really, that was just immature." She huffed and returned to looking at the door. 

"Mental, I'm telling you." Ron muttered. 

"You're one to talk!" Hermione exclaimed, not caring that she was likely attracting everyone's attention. "Just because you don't understand something doesn't mean that it's useless! Maybe you're just stupid!"

"Is that so?" Ron shouted. "Maybe you just don't make sense."

"Ron, you're so, thick!" She said, tears forcing their way through her eyes. She wiped angerly at them. 

The Great Hall doors opened and in walked the first years. 

"Great start." Hermione heard Harry mutter.

........................................................................................................................

After the ceremony, Headmistress McGonagall ordered the eight years to remain seated and wait for further instructions.

"As you most likely noticed, this year will not be like the previous years. Considering the war that took place last year, none of you shall be returning to a house, per say. You will have your own separate dorm which shall be located in one of the new towers built over the summer." She paused and looked over at the students confused faces. She grinned.

"I thought you'd all had read the article in the Daily Profit by now but, showing by your facial expressions, you have not."

"I read it, Headmistress," Hermione said, putting her hand in the air. 

"Well, I had assumed you had, Ms. Granger. You do tend to be rather 'in the know', so to speak." Minerva could not withhold the grin tugging at her lips.

"Anyway, for those of you who had not read the article, it stated that Hogwarts had gone into renovations over the summer. In fact, I believe there was an advertisement placed in the beginning of summer. I was very proud of the turnout, seeing as many of you showed."

Hermione saw Ron duck his head down; she knew that he had not gone. That was what they had argued about. 

"Now, as you can tell, the castle has been restored to its' former glory. However, due to some cases of irreversible spell damage, some parts of the castle had to be blocked off and so we decided to add a new wing. That is what the article was about and the new wing is where you lot will be staying." She clapped her hand together and then waved her wand in a circular function. 

Maps of the school appeared in front of them. One of the hallways was circled.

"The circled hallway is your wing. I do think that you are all capable of finding it, especially with these maps. We will figure out your schedules later, for now, that is all." And with that, she waved them off.


	6. Chapter 6

Pansy hurried away. She ran into the closest bathroom she could find. She locked the door behind her and slid to the floor. Sobs racked her body. Why did she come back? Her heart ached. She got up and walked over to the sinks. She ran her fingers through the cold water and then through her hair. Her perfect hair. Her now imperfect hair. She looked at her revolting reflection. Merlin, she really did look like a pug.

"Pugsy Pansy." She said darkly, laughing slightly at the sheer stupidity that hurt her so deeply.

"What did you think they'd do?" Her reflection seemed to taunt. "Forgive you with open arms? Well, sorry sweetheart, but you'll never be forgiven. Not by your classmates, nor your teachers, nor your friends."

A sob escaped her mouth and she sat back down on the cold floor. What if she just died here? What if she just stayed here until she died of starvation? And even with her brain reminding her of all the people who would miss her, the people who wouldn't far out-weighed them. And if she got lonely being stuck in a bathroom until (and maybe after) she died? Well, Myrtle was always looking for someone to talk to.

A loud knock broke her from her reverie.

She startled up, onto her feet just as the lock undid (pesky unlocking charm) and a bush of hair entered the room.

"I knew you'd be in here." Hermione Granger said. She looked awfully relieved, which made Pansy nervous. Why would a Gryffindor, and of all Gryffindors, Hermione Granger, be relieved to see her, Pansy Parkinson, queen of Slytherin and evil extraordinaire?

"Y-you did?" Was all Pansy could think to say.

Granger's face softened. (Softened! Can you imagine?) "You ran out of the Great hall."

Pansy just gaped at her. She usually would have composed herself by now but she just couldn't find the strength.

Hermione continued.

"I watched you run and I figured you'd run into a bathroom. I would've followed you straight away but Professor McGonagall called a meeting for all Eighth years. We have a new dormitory, you see, and she gave us maps and everything-"

Pansy was half-listening to Granger drone and half-waiting in apprehension for the real reason for Granger's presence to be explained.

"-and we don't have any houses anymore-"

"What?" Pansy interrupted. "No houses?"

Granger huffed and said "Only us Eighth years. It's for inter-house unity. She wants us to make friends and destroy old rivalries. Apparently, she thought the whole house thing was really absurd." She laughed. "I tend to agree." She looked at Pansy, and then did something Pansy never thought she'd deserve. Not in a million years. Granger smiled at her.

"She gave us maps. And since you weren't there, you didn't get one. I thought I'd bring it to you." She handed Pansy the map.

"Why didn't anyone else want to give it to me?" She asked, knowing the answer and really, just wanting to see what Granger would say.

And as suspected, Granger turned a brilliant shade of red. "Oh, uh, I wanted to."

"Really?" Pansy asked, not believing it for one second. She scoffed darkly. "Thanks, Granger." She spat, not meaning to but she just didn't know any other means of controlling her emotions. If she stayed here, she was going to start crying again, something no one (especially Granger!) needs to see.

Pansy tried to push past Granger, to exit the bathroom.

"No." Granger said, stopping her. "I want to talk to you."

"Leave me alone." She hissed, backing away from Granger's touch.

"No. Tell me what's wrong with you. I know something's wrong and bottling it up is not going to help."

"YOU LEAVE ME ALONE." She yelled. "You- you- you m-." She stopped. She couldn't say it. No. She couldn't say the word that once flew through her lips so carelessly. Pansy crumpled into a ball of sobs.

She was fully prepared for Granger to turn around and leave but to her shock, Granger knelt down next to her. Pansy felt an arm wrap around her back and, against the screaming defiance in her brain, her heart won and she surged into the arms that were held open for her.

***********************************************************************************************

Pansy didn't know how long she indulged in this embrace but what she did know was that when she did detach herself from Granger's (or was it Hermione now? What do you call the person who lets you sob into their shoulder?) shoulder, she noticed how soaked the latter's cloak now was.

"Sorry," Pansy mumbled.

"Don't be," Granger said.

"I meant for everything," Pansy confessed. She had planned to do this anyway. Might as well do it now. "Everything." Se repeated.

"Like I said, don't be. It was war. You obviously didn't want to be on the side you were in and it's not your fault for trying to protect people." 

"What?" Pansy asked, shocked from the lack of hatred in Granger's voice.

"When you said for everyone to grab Harry? You were trying to get the war over with. Harry even went on his own after that."

Pansy was too shocked to speak.

"Are you ready to back to the dorm? I already know where it is because I helped build it."

"Of course you did," Pansy said before she could stop herself. She froze, awaiting Granger's retort.

Instead, Granger laughed. "There's your snark." She got up and held out her hand for Pansy. Pansy took it cautiously.

Once Pansy was up, Granger let go of Pansy's hand. Her hand felt cold now. She wished Granger would hold it once more; she pushed away the thought. She did not need yet another unrequited crush.

As they reached the dorm, Pansy's heart started racing. She remembered how everyone reacting to her in the Great Hall. And that was with teachers. How would they act when she was alone?

Granger must have seen the look on her face because she stopped and pulled Pansy to the side.

"It'll be fine. I'll hex anyone who dares to bother you."

What did Pansy do to get Granger on her side?

They entered the common room and it went silent.

"Hermione? What are you doing with that bitch?" A voice popped up. Pansy recognised it as the second youngest Weasley. Pansy waited for Granger to leave her and walk over to the voice but once more, Granger surprised Pansy.

"Sod off Ron." Granger spat. Who knew she could say things in a tone like that? Pansy was mildly impressed.

"Oh yeah?" Weasley said, standing up.

"Stand down Ron." Potter said, putting a hand on Weasley's shoulder.

Pansy strode over to the list of rooms and their mates. Since so few returned, apparently there would be two to a room. Pansy scanned the list for her room-mate and found it to be empty. Of course. Who'd want to room with her? They probably crammed her into the smallest room too. She absent-mindedly found herself searching for her friends' names and their roommates. She almost laughed when she saw Draco's. Oh, Draco will be enjoying this year, getting to spend it with the speccy git that lived (twice). In fact, Pansy thought, Draco might really enjoy it, considering how much he talks of the scarhead.

Pansy felt a presence behind her and she turned. There was Granger. And boy, she looked mad.


	7. Chapter 7

"This is absolutely absurd!" Hermione shriek. Literally shrieked. She could feel her "muddy" blood boiling. How dare they put Pansy Parkinson in a separate room! How dare they isolate her! It's cruel! It's- It's-

"Granger," Pansy said, stunning Hermione out of her mind-rant. "It's fine. I'd rather not be a bother to anyone, really." 

"You won't be a bother." Hermione said firmly, "Because you'll be rooming with me."

***************************************************************************************

Pansy was shocked. Could she do that? Was that allowed? Apparently so because before she knew it, all her stuff was unpacked and she was officially sharing a room with Hermione Granger. 

She flopped onto the bed. Oh, how she missed the beds at Hogwarts. They were nothing compared to the serenity comfort, cool-charmed, griffin-plume, mattress she had at home, but still, there was something about the beds at Hogwarts that made her feel more at home than, well, home. 

"Comfortable?" Granger asked. She pulled the curtains of Pansy's bed to the side. 

"Mm." Pansy responded, her face buried in a pillow. What were these pillows made of? Clouds? Before she knew it, she was drifting off. Crying really does tire out the body, doesn't it?

**********************************************************************************************

Hermione waited until Pansy's breathing evened before she dared to look at her face. 

Sleeping, Pansy's face was so relaxed. Hermione was entranced by delicate and basically flawless skin of Pansy's face. With a jolt, Hermione realized that Pansy had not taken her makeup off, and, not wanting her face to get irritated, Hermione charmed it off. 

Dammit, she was still pretty with her makeup off. And this was just what Hermione needed, one more crush that'll destroy her heart. Woo hoo.


	8. Chapter 8

A week had passed and Pansy was shocked; Hermione had not kicked her out yet. Everyday Pansy awoke, preparing for Hermione to have packed all of her stuff and tell her that it was all a prank, that Granger really didn't want to push behind old rivalries and make friends. And yet, every morning, Pansy would get up and her stuff was still unpacked, Granger sitting at a table, scribbling at a piece of parchment. Pansy would walk as silently as she could to get dressed, trying not to be a bother. However, Hermione would always greet her.

"Good Morning!" She had said that morning, sounding far too happy for 6 in the morning. 

Pansy grumbled in respond but was secretly ecstatic to have a kind voice.

"How was your sleep?" Granger asked, just like she always asked. 

"Good." She mumbled, as always.

"Really?" Granger asked. This was not part of the script. Granger always would let Pansy go after the first couple formalities. 

"Y-yeah!" Pansy said, absolutely convincing no one. 

"You were mumbling in your sleep. Sounded like an argument?" 

Damn, she was good. Or Pansy was really obvious. In truth, Pansy had a dream about her mother. About the last conversation, she ever had with her. Pansy's eyes twinged at the memory of it; She scolded her eyes for being so weak. 

_"Is this what you want the Parkinson bloodline to come to?"  Her mother had yelled once she caught news of Pansy's relationship with a Muggle-born Hufflepuff. She had been the only girl who didn't fear her. (And she was pretty good-looking as Pansy had told her friends when they asked.)_

_"That's all you care about!" Pansy had yelled back._   _"Just the bloody blood-line. How about your daughter, huh? You don't care about her?"_

_"Of course I love you! How dare you insinuate otherwise!"_

_"Prove it then!" Pansy had started to cry at this point. She could feel all the walls she had built coming down at once._

_"I don't have to prove anything to anyone. Now, come with me, you're due for the mark."_

_"No." She had said quietly, but Mrs. Parkinson had heard it._

_"No?" She looked even more furious. "You are no child of mine!" She yelled and apparated away._

The dream went differently every time. It was replayed in so many ways, Pansy wasn't quite sure how the fight really went down, and if it had gone down at all. 

Pansy sighed. "What time is it?" She couldn't see the clock; Granger seemed to be hiding it.

"We have time. You woke up early. I didn't even go down to the Great Hall yet."

Pansy was too uncomfortable going somewhere with so many people. Everyone hated her; they'd yell at her. Granger was too nice to her; every morning, afternoon, and evening she'd go down to the Great Hall, eat, and then bring food up to Pansy. Sometimes she'd even bring her own food with her and they'd eat in silence, silently (and not-so-secretly) enjoying each other's presence. 

Pansy sighed. "It's a long story." 

"As I said, we have time."

"Well, you're spot on, for starters."

"Spot on? On what?" She gave Pansy a puzzled look that made her heart flutter. She scolded it once more.

"On the fact that it was an argument. My dream, that is. It's sort of a recurring nightmare." Pansy explained and then in an undertone, "That I shouldn't even be telling you."

Granger heard her and gave her a stern look. "Go on."

"It's the last conversation I ever had with my mother. She wanted me to become a Deatheater; I refused. She- she-" Pansy broke off, the mind-wound fresh and still bleeding tears. Granger watched, entranced by the short yet sorrowful tale. "She struck me. With a curse."

"What curse?" Granger asked, though one could tell by the brimming tears that she knew precisely what curse Pansy's mother struck her with. 

"The Cruciatus Curse." She said quietly, the pain still aching deep, deep within her, the way only true pain can. The way only pain that not only hurt you physically but mentally can.

"Oh, Pansy!" Granger shrieked. She rushed over to Pansy's side and wrapped her arms around her. Pansy allowed herself to revel in the warmth of Granger's body.

And once again, Hermione Granger and Pansy Parkinson were intertwined in a tearful embrace.

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Granger," Pansy said, coughing slightly. "Can you, uh, let go now?"

"Oh? Oh, yeah." Hermione released her, not moving from her spot on the bed, though. Hermione looked at Pansy, who was wiping tears from her red face. Goodness, she was so beautiful. Hermione couldn't avoid it; it was a fact and Hemione loved facts. That's why she thought about it so often, she had rationalized. It wasn't like she was falling for her; no; never; that's ridiculous. This is why she was so entranced by the curve of Pansy's cupid's bow that she didn't notice Pansy looking at her.

"Don't be a stranger, Granger," Pansy said, biting her lip. God dammit, Hermione wanted to kiss her. Woah! Where did that come from? That is not part of the facts. Hermione dealt with facts; Pansy was pretty: fact. Hermione wanting to kiss her? Well, that must be an effect of Pansy's prettiness. That's it! It's  **completely normal**.

"Completely normal", she reassured herself aloud.

"What?" Pansy asked.

"Nothing," Hermione answered, maybe a little too fast but that's beside the point.

Pansy looked away, "I've always wanted to say that."

"What?"

"Oh, it's an inside joke with my friends and I. We found it hilarious how your last name rhymed with words."

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised that Slytherins would find such low-brow humor entertaining.

"Yeah," Pansy said, laughing slightly. "For instance, in Third year, when you hit Draco, we went around saying 'Granger Danger' for weeks. Draco would turn bright red every time but that just made it better." Pansy started laughing and pretty soon, Hermione joined her. If you had asked 6th year Hermione if she thought that she'd be laughing with Pansy Parkinson just two years later, she'd had sent you to the hospital wing.

Hermione watched her laugh, her lips curling into a smile that Hermione never thought she'd see. Maybe there was a chance for them to be friends. Well, Hermione hoped so, they would be spending a year together.

"So," Pansy said. She got up off the bed. "If I got dressed and we headed right now, how many people do you think would be in the Great Hall?"

***********************************************************************************************

Why did Pansy think this was a good idea? Everyone was looking at her; they all hated her; they wanted her to die. Especially that Weasley clan -which is more of a duo now since most of them had graduated. Both of them were staring at her, giving her the evil eye, blaming her for the fact that Hermione wanted to hang out with her rather than them.

"Pansy." Granger said, waving her hand in front of Pansy's face. Apparently, she had been trying to get her attention.

"Yes?" Pansy asked, pretending that she didn't feel guilty for every second that Granger spent with her rather than her own friends.

"Don't give them any attention," Granger said, resting her hand over Pansy's hand which had apparently started shaking, spilling the spoonful of cereal over the table. "They're just jealous."

"They have a right to be." Pansy countered. "They're your friends, Granger. You should be over there with them instead of over here with a misfit."

"First of all, you are not a misfit. Misunderstood, yes; misfit, no. Secondly, I can choose whoever I want to sit next to. Just like I can choose my roommate so if you think I'm doing this out of pity you are sorely mistaken. I  _want_ to sit with you." She squeezed her hand. "And lastly, please Pansy, call me Hermione. I'm quite finished with this formality dribble."

Pansy was slightly shocked but she enjoyed hearing this compliment.

"And, between you and me," Hermione added in a mock-whisper. "I'm kind-of avoiding Ron."

"Wait, so who have you been sitting with?"

"Usually Harry. He doesn't hate me." She said with a chuckle. "And actually, he's coming here now." She waved off to the doorway, momentarily occupied and Pansy didn't waste a second, automatically shifting her eyes to Gran-  _Hermione's_ gentle features. She reveled in the rich, almost flawless brown of Hermione's skin. She traced the curls that framed Hermione's face with her eyes, wishing she could trail her fingers through it, wondering what it would feel like, smell like, taste like. Woah, no need to go there. Pansy pushed away the thoughts. Anyway, she mustn't waste a second of reveling Hermione's features. Even her name was beautiful.  _Hermione_. It just flowed, as if it were a river instead of a jumble of letters. She was jutted out of her thoughts by the feeling of a chair moving near her and she realized that she and Hermione were no longer alone. Well, alone as they could be in the crowded Great Hall.

"Good morning Harry, Draco," Hermione said.

"Mornin' 'Mione." Harry said, already stuffing his face full of toast.

"Good morning," Draco said, nodding a little too formally. Pansy knew why. He needed Hermione to like him if he ever planned to court Potter, which seeing at how their legs were almost intertwined, was obviously going rather well. Perhaps they could accompany Hermione and her on a date in Hogsmeade one day. And that's enough of those thoughts for one day, Pansy thought, for Potter was talking animatedly and Draco was too obviously pining, and, being the fantastic, wonderful,  _stupendous_ friend that she was, she had to remind him to be less  _obvious_. So she did what all good friends do when their friend is being embarrassingly obvious in front of a crush, and that is to kick them (lightly of course) on the leg.

"Oi! What was that for?" Draco asked.

"Sweetheart, you were far too entranced in Potter's conversation. I felt that you needed to be reminded that the real world does indeed exist." Pansy said this, hoping that one of the two oblivious boys would catch her drift. Draco did and so he retaliated as so:

"Well, Hermione, how are you doing on your S.P.E.W. efforts?"

That bastard was all Pansy could think as Hermione started to work herself into a vivacious attack on Pureblooded abusers. Or that was all Pansy heard before she was entranced by the alluring witch before her.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Pansy heard the bell ring and Hermione seemed to calm down. 

"I'll see you later!" Hermione chimed, grabbing her stuff and leaving to her classes with Potter. 

Once she was gone, Pansy turned to Draco. "I hate you."  

"You get what you get." He said, shrugging. He grabbed his stuff. "Shall we go?"

"Where'd you learn that? Potter?" Pansy said as she rolled her eyes and got up with him.  As they walked to their classes, they chatted fervently about their room-mates.

"I'm telling you," Pansy said, in a loud whisper. "She's too perfect. And she doesn't even try!"

"Yeah, well, Harry _doesn't know_  how perfect he is. He still doesn't understand that people aren't only staring at him for his scar. Now people are looking at his face and body." Draco was blushing feverishly. 

"Well," Pansy huffed. "At least he seems to like you back." 

"What?" Draco stopped. " _What_?"

"Oh yeah!" Pansy said, knowing that her voice was becoming shrill, as it tends to do when she gets excited. "I don't know  _how_ you didn't realize. Oh wait, I do; you're as oblivious as a troll."

"Hey, how could you talk about your mother like that?" Draco asked, poking her ribs.

"Fuck off." Pansy said, but internally she was dying. Remembering her mother was painful. She couldn't blame Draco for scraping an open wound because well, he didn't know. She hadn't told anyone about her current housing situation, about how her mother had kicked her out for being g-, no, loving the same gender. The lie she had told everyone was that her mother was in Azkaban. It would only take them long enough to remember that her mother wasn't a Deatheater, and for them to start asking questions.

Draco rolled his eyes, unknowing of her inner turmoil. "Anyway," He started. "Potter is still a prat. A bloody git, in fact. But he easy on the eyes, so to speak, so I don't really mind having him as a roommate." 

"Well, that was unusually suave for you, darling. Where's the blush? Aren't you going to go on about his  _emerald_ green eyes or how 'Perfect Potter is so perfect'?" She said, knowing she was being a little louder and that someone could hear them.

"Would you shut up?" Draco said, hurriedly. "Someone'll hear you." 

"Oh, what does it matter!" She huffed. "It's not like nobody knows." She knew she'd made a mistake the moment the words flew from her mouth. 

"What?" Draco stopped dead in his tracks. 

Welp, Pansy had two choices, apologize or go with it. She chose the latter. 

"Oh yeah, everyone's known since forth year when you wouldn't stop staring at him during the yule ball. Or when you would go out of your way to follow him during sixth year. Or maybe when-" 

"Alright!" Draco cut her off. "Enough, someone will hear you."

"Honey, it doesn't matter if someone hears us! Everyone knows that you love him!"

Draco turned red. "I-I don't..."

Pansy softened. "Oh, honey." She grabbed his arm. "Wanna skip today's lessons and just head back to the common room? We could just sit and talk without any qualms. No one to hear it. No one to judge."

Draco nodded. 

"Come on, let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione couldn't focus. Where was she? Hermione watched her leave the table this morning and yet, by potions, Pansy Parkinson was nowhere to be seen. Draco Malfoy as well but that's not Hermione's worry; Harry was doing plenty of the worrying on that subject so Hermoine did the worrying on the disappearance of Pansy. 

Hermione chuckled to herself; The Disappearance of Pansy Parkinson. Sounds like an article in the Daily Profit, which she had been enjoying lately. After the defeat of Voldemort, the Daily Profit's articles had become a lot more readable. No more dwelling on meaningless drivel used to occupy and fill the reader's mind with fuzz. Luna would say that they were Wackspurtz. 

Goodness,  _Luna_. Hermione hadn't even said hi to her once beside's their brief ride to Hogwarts in the carriages. She'd been so busy with schoolwork and studying and Pansy. 

Hermione found herself drifting into blurry day-dreams of the obsidian-haired. She saw the red of her lips and the pale of her skin, how her hair seemed to draw all the light from the billions upon billions of stars, how her cloud-like skin would perfectly compare to the mocha color of Hermione's own skin, how her upturned nose would fit perfectly in the crook of Hermione's neck, how her lips would feel upon Hermione's.

Hermione was overcome with the urge to cry. She passed it off as how one is moved by an especially beautiful piece of art. Which Pansy certainly was. A piece of artwork - no a  _masterpiece_. Beautifully crafted by nature, she was in the same category as a gem or a fresh-water spring. But if she was as such, why did she make Hermione feel so strongly? It was, if she dared to admit, almost the same sensation as her infatuation with Ron. But that couldn't be, Hermione reasoned, for she had no time to entertain such feelings. If the feelings were as they seemed, she'd just have to push them away. Yes, that's what she'll have to do. 

"It's settled then." She muttered and Harry looked over at her. 

"What was that, 'Mione?" Harry asked, only Hermione didn't answer for, at that moment, a burning chill seeped into her hand.

"Damn!" She cursed, extinguishing the flame under her cauldron and charming the mess of her should-be Draught-of-Peace away. She had gotten so carried away with her thoughts that she had forgotten that she was in class - something that never,  _never_ happened. 

'It's all Pansy's fault.' Was the excuse she was sticking with. All Pansy's fault for being so god-damned beautiful, all her fault for all the heart-pains and butterflies. It's Pansy's fault, was what reason told her and who was Hermione Granger to question reason. 

Hermione went back to the cupboard to grab a new supply of ingredients. As she was approaching, she tripped over something and was sent to the ground. She scrambled back up, face flaming. She searched the ground for what had caused her to trip. It was a loose notebook. It had no name on it but the second Hermione opened it and admired the perfectly shaped letters, she knew that she would not be returning it. Well, not for a while.


	12. Chapter 12

The common room was warm and quiet as Pansy and Draco chatted up a storm. They hadn't had time to do this since summer and Merlin's saggy tits, did Pansy miss it. She missed how freely they could talk to one another when there was no chance of prying ears. How emotion-rich their words could be as they spoke of all the things that ailed them, not having to pretend it was only the daily troubles of school and such. They could talk about the real problems, such as Draco's failing relationship with his father and how he's questioning everything he ever put his faith in. It was only when Draco started to let out strangled sobs, that Pansy found the courage to speak of her current housing situation. 

She got up off the chair she was lounged in and squeezed in next to Draco. She rested her head on his shoulder; waiting for the right moment to tell him. However, her chance was ruined by Draco saying, ever so softly, 

"Pansy, I'm in love." 

As shocked as she was, Pansy could only think to say one thing, "I know, sweetie."

"No," Draco said, heavy sobs ripping through his torso, making Pansy wince in sympathy. "I'm in love with  _him_. Potter. What will my father say? Oh, wait I know, exactly what he's been saying in his letters for the past month." He put his head into his hands and cried silently, an act that Pansy knew for a fact that Draco had been perfecting for years. 

"Letters?" Pansy got letters from her mother as well. Perhaps they carried the same message? 

Draco got up and walked over to the stairs. He motioned for Pansy to follow him. Pansy followed Draco as he led her to his room. Draco went in and rummaged around under his bed for something. When he seemed to have found it, he emerged, holding an ornamental box.

He handed it to Pansy and she opened it, revealing dozens of letters. She picked one up, only meaning to glance at it quickly, however, her eyes caught on the word "disgrace" and she gasped. Quickly trying to find the sentence again, she scanned the page. She found the sentence and said it softly.

_"If I were not in Azkaban, you would be paying for your temerity. You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name."_

Pansy crumpled the paper up and threw it to the ground. 

"How many did he send?" Pansy asked.

"I lost count; I burned so many," Draco responded, looking at the pile of parchment on the ground. 

"Come on, let's go back down. Classes are almost done for the day and all that emotional baggage made me hungry." 

"I can't," Draco said, "Harry wanted me to meet him at the Quidditch Pitch."

"Ooh, it's  _Harry_ now, is it?" 

"Fuck off." He smiled. Pansy could feel her insides relax, this boy was in deep.

"Tell him." She said and Draco looked away.

"I think not." 

Pansy would've argued but an angry Hermione Granger had just stepped into the common room. 

"I'll tell him after you tell her." Draco taunted, slipping around Pansy and out the door, into the hall. Pansy wanted to hex his hair pink.


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione was furious. How could she skip classes? Did she not care at all about her educational progress? Did she not care about anything? This her last year at Hogwarts, and she was gonna spend it slinking off? The fact that Pansy had only done this once did not even flit across Hermione's mind. How dare she had scared Hermione like that, making her mess up her Draught of Peace. It was all her fault for making her miscount the number of times she stirred. Hermione had rushed from her last class of the day to the common room, storming from Pansy's act. She was a bit more mad at Pansy scaring her than she'd like to admit but Hermione was going to stick to the reason of "Pansy skipping class". 

She walked into the common room, not at all surprised to find Pansy and Draco alone in the common room. When both Pansy and Draco didn't show to the second class of the day, Charms, she put two-and-two together that they were skipping. 

Draco and Pansy were on their way down the stairs to the couches when Hermione walked in. 

"I think not," Draco said, and Pansy stopped in her tracks as she saw Hermione enter. 

"I'll tell him after you tell her," Draco muttered into Pansy's ear. Hermione was obviously not supposed to hear that. Draco smirked and slid past Hermione, leaving a flaming Pansy in his wake. 

"I suppose you're going to lecture me?" Pansy said, flopping onto a sofa by the fireplace. 

As angry as Hermione was, she could tell that Pansy was not happy. 

"No," Hermione said, sighing. "Are you alright?"

Pansy looked up, seeming shocked. "You're not mad at me? You're not gonna yell at me for risking my grades? For skipping? Who are you?" 

"I'm furious, actually. But, I can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. What's wrong?"

Pansy wiped at here eyes, looking away.

"Hey," Hermione said, softening her voice. "You can tell me."

There was a silence as Pansy inspected her nails. Finally, she muttered: "My mom kicked me out."

"What?" 

"My mom," Pansy repeated, louder. "She kicked me out."

"No, I heard you. I just...don't believe it. I mean, I believe  _you_ , I just can't even fathom the idea that your mother would just..."

"Well, she did." Pansy said, sharply, tears spilling down her cheeks. This was obviously a touchy subject. 

"I didn't mean to upset you," Hermione got up from her chair and sat next to Pansy on the couch. She wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder, trying to comfort her. Pansy leaned into the touch and laid her head on Hermione's shoulder. Hermione took Pansy hand in her own. 

They sat like that for a while, in silence, enjoying each other's presence. It was relaxing and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart was pounding in her chest and there were butterflies in her stomach but she blew them off to be from the sensation of another person being in such close proximity, not due to the particular person.

Hermione played with Pansy's perfectly manicured fingers and wondered how she got them so nice. She looked at the perfectly shaped nails and the chip-less polish. Pansy had little snakes and flowers charmed onto her nails and they moved as if they were real. Was there a spell that made her nails so nice? Or did Pansy take the time to paint her nails and then charmed them. Hermione had never had any need or urges to charm her nails due to her studies but the sight of Pansy's beautiful nails intertwined with Hermione's average ones made her feel inadequate. Hermione was going to ask her but then she noticed the light snores emanating from Pansy. She was asleep. Hermione moved so that Pansy was lying down on her lap. She looked down at Pansy's face. She looked to calm and at peace, so unlike her usual walls of secrecy. Her skin was so flawless and her lips were so plump. Hermione was filled with the sudden urge to kiss them. The thought was so sudden and so strong that Hermione was taken aback. That wasn't right, Hermione thought, that couldn't have been a real thought, just a reminisce of her relationship with Ron, just a figment of her loneliness. 

She went back to admiring Pansy. She looked at her hair, the obsidian cloud that framed Pansy's face so perfectly was now ever-so-lightly crushed on Hermione's lap by Pansy's head.  Hermione carefully ran her fingers through Pansy's hair, making sure not to disturb her. Her hair was softer than anything she could imagine, it was thick but still light and so, so lovely.

She looked at her chest rising and falling with her steady breaths, she wouldn't admit it, but she looked at her skirt, which had ridden up a bit when she sat down. If anyone were to walk in right now, it would be hard to explain what exactly was going on. However, it didn't bother Hermione much, for her eyes were drooping as she listened to the calming sounds of the fireplace and Pansy's breathing. She almost wanted this moment to go on forever. She knew that this was impossible and a waste of her thoughts, but she couldn't help but imagine this being an everyday occurrence. That every day the two could relax after the day of classes and sleep. That there was no pressure between them to talk and make up, that they could just forgive and forget. Hermione knew, however, that this would be a one-time thing. She knew that Pansy would wake up and it would be over, or someone would walk in and ruin the moment. For now, though, Hermione was going to enjoy the moment and not worry about the future. What will be, will be, there's no changing it. At least that's what she thought. 


	14. Chapter 14

Pansy Parkinson had a problem. A major problem. Before she could dwell on the problem, however, she needed to comprehend what was happening. She woke up in her bed, still in her Hogwarts uniform, save for her robes, tie, and heels. Those were folded neatly on her bedside desk. As strange as this was, it only got weirder. On closer thought, Pansy could not remember going up to her dorm last night, or whenever it was when she had fallen asleep.   
She sat up in bed, intending to get up and check the time, but before she could, Hermione peeked her head from the corner of Pansy's bed.   
"I see that you're up," Hermione said, taking a seat on the edge of Pansy's bed, crinkling the plush comforter.   
Pansy groaned in response. "What time is it?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.   
"4 am," Hermione said, pointing to a box with glowing numbers on it. Hermione saw Pansy's face and quickly added, "That's a muggle clock."  
Pansy just blinked in response to the new decoration, her mind preoccupied with the fact that she was awake at 4 am.  
"Why are you up?" Pansy asked.  
"I got up early to finish the homework I didn't get done last night."  
Pansy then remembered last night's events: her telling Hermione of her family issues and promptly falling asleep on her shoulder. But that doesn't explain how she ended up here.  
"You were out cold," Hermione said, seeming to read Pansy's mind. "I tried to wake you up when people started coming in from dinner but you were fast asleep. So I just, er, carried you to the dorm before people came in to see you so...vulnerable."   
Pansy was flooded with admiration for Hermione Granger and slid down the bed to sit next to her. She took her hand in her own, the way Hermione had done to her just that night.   
"Thank you," Pansy said softly.  
"Anytime," Hermione said back.  
They sat in silence for a short while after, just enjoying each other's company.   
"Pansy," Hermione asked, breaking the silence. "I meant to ask you this last night but, I never had the chance."  
Pansy's brain whirs with all the things Hermione could ask. Is she going to ask about her Mom? Why she was kicked out? Maybe she'll ask if she really was a Deatheater. Before Pansy had more time to worry, Hermione continued.  
"What's the charm for your nails?"   
Pansy was taken aback.   
"What?" She asked, not sure she had understood Hermione's inquisition.   
"Well," Hermione said, almost reluctantly. "Your nails are so pristine and eloquently done. And the pictures on then move so flawlessly."   
Pansy wasn't supposed to admit it, but she was quite proud of her nails. That, her hair, and her eyes were the only good facets of herself. Looking at her nails, watching the snakes coil and slither along her nails, moving across the fingers, she smiled softly.   
"Did you paint them and then charm them? Did you charm the art on?" Hermione was still talking, and Pansy broke her off by squeezing her hand.   
"May I answer your question? Or do you want to rant some more?" She asked, coy grin tugging her lips.   
Hermione flushed and nodded.  
Pansy got up, walking over to her trunk and pulled out her nail art bag. She showed Hermione the polishes she preferred (the quick-dry, anti-chip, 4-week polish from Madam Puffin's Paints) and the list of charms she used for her nail designs (some she learned at the salons, some she made herself, others she learned from her friends).   
Hermione listened in earnest, softly oohing at the shimmering, glowing and otherwise mesmerizing nail paints.   
"Would you like me to, er, paint your nails?" Pansy asked, looking at Hermione's short, bitten nails.  
Hermione smiled widely.  
"I'd love that."   
  
  



	15. Chapter 15

Hermione blushed as Pansy held her hand, leading her to one of the desks in their room. She let go, charmed the desk to the center of the room and pulled a chair onto either side. Her bag floated into her hand, opened, and the contents serenely floated onto the table. A bamboo mat unrolled itself and the nail polishes (or nail paints as magic folk called them) and other nail tools aligned themselves along the edges.   
  


"It's a charmed bag." Pansy said, seeming to feel the need to explain.

Hermione sat down, opposite to where Pansy had sat herself. She slowly laid her hands on the mat, stupidly feeling self-conscious about her nail inadequacy.   
  


However, Pansy seemed unfazed by her stubby, bitten nails, instead looking at them as an artist would a blank canvas.

Which, Hermione pondered, was sort of appropriate for this situation. Pansy was, of sorts, an artist, and Hermione, her canvas. Hermione shook away the thought of Pansy using, well, other parts of her as a canvas. She had no time to entertain those thoughts, especially not to her roommate. Indeed, she had other activities to devote her attention to.   
  


"Well?" Pansy asked, lightly hitting Hermione's hand.

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Could you repeat the question?"   
  


Pansy rolled her eyes. "I asked what color you'd prefer."

 

"Oh, um, I was hoping you'd choose for me? I don't really know much about nails. Or fashion for that matter."

 

"I'm sure anything would look lovely on you," Pansy said, she blushed vibrantly but Hermione didn't notice, for she was too busy blushing herself.

 

Pansy distracted herself with looking at all her colors and Hermione took the opportunity to take in her features.

 

Pansy's hair was crumpled slightly, but it still looked flawless in the way that only Pansy Parkinson's hair could. Most of her makeup was gone, Hermione had charmed it off last night, after placing her on the bed, so Hermione got to see her in her natural state, that is, without makeup. Hermione wanted to scream because she was still as, if not more, beautiful without enhancements. She couldn't help but let her eyes linger along her lips, her round, plump lips. She didn't let her eyes stay for longer than a few seconds for she feared that she might do something rash. However, her eyes, Pansy's jade green eyes, retained her gaze. She was so unused to the sight of Pansy's eye without the layers of makeup she so copiously covered her eyes in. Hermione tended to dislike this fashion choice, but on Pansy, she seemed to make it look delicate. Hermione was so busy looking at her eyes, that she didn't notice that they were staring right back at her.

"Is there something on my face?" Pansy asked, the question not sounding genuine.

"No, I was just..." She trailed off, unsure of what say. "Admiring the view." She said before she could think about it.

Pansy looked away. Hermione didn't know what she was expecting. It wasn't like she had declared her undying love (the thought made her mouth dry and heart rate speed up) for her. But then why was her heart beating so fast? Why was she both eager for Pansy's response and dreading it?

But then Pansy did something unpredictable.   
  


She smiled. Not only that, she smiled and then she laughed.

"D-did I say something funny?" Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest.   
  


"No, no," Pansy said, holding back her laugh. She put a hand over her mouth. covering her smile. 

"Actually,  you did say something funny, hilarious even!" Pansy said, voice raising slightly. "The idea that someone would, quote-unquote, 'admire' the view of me, is, well, hilarious. What is there to admire?" Pansy mimed wiping away a tear and continued, "Anywho, I think I'll begin to prepare your nails for painting." With a fluid wand-wave, she Accio-ed the nail-cleaning lathers and some fluff balls. 

"I do believe that you have these in the muggle world?" Pansy said, taking Hermione's hand and lightly scrubbed at her nails. 

"Yes, but it smells a lot worse," Hermione replied, remembering the eye-watering scent.

Pansy hummed in response. And then it was quiet for a while; the two of them just sitting in comfortable silence. Soon, Hermione's nails were finished being cleaned and polished.

"Now, for the fun part," Pansy said a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. She picked up a few bottles, inspecting them. Finally, she picked one and charmed the rest of the bottles off the table.

"This royal red would look lovely on you, Hermione," Pansy said, holding up a glass bottle filled with sparkling, deep red liquid. It looked like liquid garnets. 

Hermione nodded and Pansy picked up Hermione's hand once more. 

A few moments went by and Hermione was left to contemplate their last conversation. Pansy had said that she saw nothing beautiful about herself. Of course, those weren't her exact words, but that was basically the synopsis of her response. Hermione was troubled by this. Pansy was beautiful. It was a fact. That was why Hermione felt so...well why she felt the way she did around her. How could she, Pansy, refute the fact that she is perfect in every way?  More importantly, how could Hermione fix that?


	16. Chapter 16

"Voila." Pansy said, "Your nails are finished." She looked down at the ruby red nails she had just finished painting. Pansy had taken the liberty of adding gold swirls to them, after feeling as though the plain red was just a bit bland.  The charm she used to make them dance was a charm she had made herself. She could not find any books in the library on the topic, and seeing as all her friends (all two that is) had the same results, she decided to curate her own. Cieo Cendo, pronounced 'see-o send-o' , was a charm she had created in her fourth or fifth year after getting fed up with the 'Motus' charm with which her friends used to make their drawings dance. It just didn't work the same on nails. She had even tried using charmed nail paint, charmed to move with the picture but it didn't do what she wished it to do, which is one of Pansy's biggest pet peeves. 

The young lady the nails were attached to, the one and only Hermione Granger, softly took in a sharp breath. 

"They're beautiful." She whispered, barely audible. "Oh, Pansy," Hermione picked up her head and looked Pansy in the eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem." Pansy replied, swallowing hard. 

"How long should I wait for them to dry?" Hermione asked. 

"Oh, not long, just a few more seconds, I suppose," Pansy replied. With a wave of her hands, her bag started packing itself, the nail polishes went back into the bag and it snapped shut. She got up, putting the bag back into her chest. 

She sat down on top of the chest by her bed, facing Hermione, who was still sitting at the table in the middle of their shared dorm room. 

"The charm I used is 'Cieo Cendo'." Hermione opened her mouth and Pansy smiled slightly. "I know you've never heard of it, because I created it."

"You... made this?" Hermione asked, watching the golden swirls dance across her fingers. They moved across each finger as if the red was an ocean and the gold, the waves.  

"Yeah," Pansy said, feeling her face grow hot. "I made it in my fourth year. I got tired of the 'motus' charm. The movements aren't as fluid and they don't move as one." 

Hermione nodded, seeming to truly understand the nonsense that was Pansy's brain. 

Pansy shifted, trying to make herself more comfortable on the wooden chest. Sure, she could go back and sit down across from Hermione once more, but she doubted she'd be able to stand sitting so close to Hermione with nothing else to occupy her mind other that her intoxicating beauty. Pansy didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was developing some sort of an infatuation with her roommate. Merlin, if she had been told this a mere year ago, she'd have sneered and turned away. However, upon thinking back, Pansy had always felt some sort of, well, emotion towards Granger. Even all the way back in first year, when she had said something about the ceilings of the Great Hall being charmed to look like the night sky, Pansy had felt a tug on her stomach which she tossed aside as excitement. Now, she knew what that feeling was, but she was yet to allow herself to acknowledge it. 

"Pansy?" Hermione asked, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "Earth to Pansy?"

"Earth to Pansy?" She said back, arching an eyebrow.

"It's a muggle expression." Granger explained. "It's what you say to someone who's drifting off into a daydream."

If Pansy thought she was blushing before, she was most likely scarlet now. The light coming through the window was not helping her hide it, either. 

"Hold on, what time is it?" Pansy asked, scanning the room, trying to find that muggle clock. 

"5:28" Hermione answered, pointing to glowing number-box that was hidden behind her head.

Lovely, Hermione would be due down to eat breakfast with her friends in twelve minutes. And Pansy would be left alone again. 

Instead of hopping up to get ready, as she normally did, however, Hermione stayed sitting down at the table. 

She then said something Pansy was not expecting at all.

"Would you like to join me?"

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this chapter might include some eating disorder references. It's just a hc of mine about Pansy. I might do a separate fic about Pansmione with explicite ed mentions but I still want to include a bit in this. (I'm such a sucker for convincing people they're beautiful. I want everyone to see themselves as I see them. And Hermione would be like that too) I just don't want anyone to get triggered (I'm not saying that in the TRigGeRed!!1! way. I mean "someone-with-an-eating-disorder-having-a-relapse" way. I hate triggered jokes.) Anyway, it won't be explicite with Hermione but in Pansy's pov there will definitely be mentions of it. I'll include a warning. :)

"What?" Pansy asked. 

Hermione fiddled with her shirt. 

"Do you want to go and eat in with Harry, Ron, Ginny and I?" She and Ron, while not completely okay, were on speaking terms once more. What she had gotten from Harry was that Ron was not excited to have a deatheater as a friend. Hermione doubted that was the language Ron had used but she expected no less. However, one of the things she had loved about him was his acceptance. She knew it would take him a while to understand Hermione's actions but the fact that he was willing to try was all that she could ask. She was just relieved to have her best friends back. Next step was just trying to get him to realize that Pansy wasn't a deatheater, and just like them, was just a child in a war.  "I think Malf-, _Draco_ , might be going as well, but I'm not sure."

"Would that be okay?"

"Of course," Hermione said. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I mean, I just thought, well," Pansy was stuttering, seemingly trying to think of a reason.

Hermione smiled. "They'll love you when they get to know you." She said softly.

"I'm not really that hungry," Pansy said, looking down at her hands. 

"You haven't eaten since last night. I'd assume you're hungry."

"I'm really not. Besides, the school breakfast is so unhealthy. It's all pastries and high-fat meat. It would be best if I didn't eat that. I'm already pudgy as it is. If I start going down with you, I might have to start eating breakfast." She said nonchalantly as if it was a completely normal state-of-mind.

Hermione was astonished by this response. What did she mean when she said she was pudgy? Pansy barely had an ounce of fat on her. "You don't eat breakfast?" She asked as if that was what really bothered her. 

"I mean, I eat it occasionally."

Hermione brought her breakfast every day. How did she not notice that she didn't eat it? Thinking back on it, however, she realized that Pansy only, really, picked at the food. She didn't eat the whole thing and rarely, she saw her eat the muffins or other various pastries. She mostly just ate the fruit and nibbled at her toast. 

"Well, you're eating it today." Hermione huffed. She felt her bossiness beginning to kick in, but she felt that this moment needed it. How could she have not noticed Pansy not eating breakfast? She noticed everything. 

Pansy looked up, slightly shocked. "Okay." She said, uneasily. 

Hermione slid out of her chair. "Okay." She said back.

 

After they got changed, Hermione and Pansy headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Surprisingly, the castle was bustling with activity and people were walking through the halls, chatting. 

They entered the Great Hall, and Hermione directed Pansy to the little table off to the side where she and her friends ate. At the table, sat Ron, Harry, Luna, Neville, Ginny, and Draco. 

What once was a table bustling with life simmered down to nothing as everyone looked at Pansy. 

"Oh hullo Pansy," Luna said, moving over so that she could sit down next to her.

"You two know each other?" Ron asked, pointing with his toast. His mouth was semi-full and crumbs flew out. He didn't seem to notice.

"Oh yes," Luna said. "We aren't exactly close but I'd consider us friends. Right, Pansy?" She looked over at Pansy, who had still not taken her seat. 

"R-right." She replied, sliding into the bench. There was a silk covering on the wood but it still felt cold compared to the plush chairs of the common room. 

"Anyway," Harry said, attempting to ease the tension. "Ron was just talking about his plans for the winter."

Ron turned red. "They're not  _my_  plans. They're mum's plans." 

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course they are. Ron would never think to invite  _Slytherins_  to our house."

Ron elbowed her. 

Pansy felt her lungs close up. She looked at Draco and he was thinking the same thing.

"Who even told her about them." Hermione heard Ron mutter. She glared at him. 

Pansy moved to get up but Hermione placed her hand on her wrist. 

"Hermione, I can't do this-"

"Do what?" Hermione asked, looking at her with those big, brown eyes.

"I'm not wanted here." She whispered. No one at the table seemed to notice the conversation going on at the other end of the table. 

"What are you talking about? They haven't said one rude thing to you." She didn't seem mad, just... there was this emotion Pansy couldn't place. She marked it down as pity. She loathed pity.

Suddenly she was mad. 

"Get off me." She whispered.

"What?" 

"Get. Off. Me." She said, voice quivering. She yanked her hand free, a hand that didn't need to be yanked seeing as how Hermione was barely holding on. 

Pansy stood up from the table, pushing the bench back and rumbling plates and silverware. She rushed out of the Great Hall, leaving the small group behind her. 

Only two followed. 


	18. Chapter 18

Memories of their first night of this year came flooding back.  

"Pansy I don't want to do this again," Hermione shouted down the Entrance Hall. It wasn't too late, but it was still vaguely empty. Students were no longer trickling down the stairs, but those who still wished to make it for early breakfast were rushing down (or up) into the Hall. Pansy, however, just rushed past them, and Hermione followed. Draco was closely at her feet. 

Hermione stopped to let him catch up.

"I've got this," Draco said, slowing down as he caught up to Hermione. 

"We can both go," Hermione said. She wasn't going to leave Pansy alone. 

Draco looked at her, slightly stunned. Hermione guessed he knew her well enough to know when Hermione set her mind to something, she was going to do it. 

He sighed and started walking. He wasn't running anymore.

"Shouldn't we run to catch up to her?" Hermione asked, ready to sprint down the corridor.

"She always goes to the same restroom," Draco replied, cooly.  

They walked silently down the Hall. For once, Hermione did not know what to say. She wanted to ask him about Pansy but decided against it. She wanted to ask about Harry, but again, decided against it.

Instead, she speed-walked to the bathroom she knew Pansy would be in.

"I can take it from here," Draco said, jogging to catch up to Hermione. 

"No," Hermione said firmly. "I want to help her."

"I have known her my entire-"

"Look, Draco, please," Hermione reached out to place a hand on his arm. "Let me help her too."

He looked pained but shook his head. He opened the door. 

Hermione didn't even question that a boy was going into the girl's room because, well, she, Harry and Ron had done this numerous times.

"Hey, Pans?" Draco asked quietly.

He didn't need to ask to know that she was in there. They could hear her crying. 

"She's with you, isn't she." Pansy's voice sounded hoarse. Hermione should have expected that; she'd been crying, but she was still jarred.

"Yeah, she is." 

"Fuck," Pansy whispered. She took a sharp breath in and one of the stall doors opened; Pansy stepped out. Her outfit and hair were crumpled and her face was a red mess.

Draco took a step forward and Pansy just sunk into his arms. 

Hermione stood awkwardly by the door, just watching the embrace happen, unknowing what to do. 

"I don't know why I even came back." Hermione heard Pansy sob into Draco's back. 

"Neither do I. I don't think any of us do," Draco said back, his voice was calm but shaking.

"I shouldn't have come back," Pansy said, louder. She looked up, making eye contact with Hermione. "I'm sorry," she added.

Hermione walked over to them; she felt herself tearing up.

"Why are you sorry?" Hermione asked, trying to grasp what Pansy was talking about.

"Why shouldn't I be sorry?" Pansy responded. 

Draco moved away, allowing Hermione to see Pansy fully. 

Words can't describe how small Pansy looked in that moment. She looked like a child the first time they heard their parents fight, like a child who had just gotten out from under their bed after a roaring thunderstorm. She was a child in the face of a war, a war that she was losing. 

"Oh, Pansy." Was all Hermione could muster. She wrapped her arms around her frail classmate, who had never seemed so young. 

Hermione heard the bathroom door open, but she didn't let go. She heard voices and shuffling, but she still didn't let go. She and Pansy were in their own dimension, a quiet, peaceful dimension where no one from the outside world could hurt them. Only when Pansy had said: "Hermione?", did Hermione finally let go.

~~~~~~

Harry had joined them in the bathroom. That was the noises Hermione had heard. 

"Draco told me that if he didn't come back in twenty minutes, to go looking for him. He said he'd likely be here," Harry had explained.

"It's been twenty minutes?" Pansy asked. 

"Yeah," 

"Oh." 

It was silent for a moment before Harry, hands in his pockets, asked: "So, uh, do you want to go down to Hogsmeade?" 

Pansy looked down, not understanding that the question was for all of them, including her. 

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, nudging Pansy lightly.

"Oh," she said again, her mouth making a perfect 'O'. "Me too?"

"Of course," Harry said, smiling widely. Harry had this specific smile, Hermione had realized, that he reserved for people who didn't feel good about themselves. It wasn't one of pity, but one that just gave them hope. She didn't even think he did it consciously, he just had this abundance of positivity; she didn't know where it came from, but she was eternally grateful because Pansy picked her head up and smiled. A real, beautiful,  _perfect_ smile that just seemed to light up the room.

"Okay," She replied.

Hermione also knew that Harry had a specific smile for people who he liked a little more than a friend. He flashed Draco that sly, sheepish smile.

"Of course, you're welcome as well," He said, blushing faintly and looking everywhere but Draco. "To come...with us to Hogsmeade. I mean, if you'd like to, if you're...if you're free." He stumbled over his words and Hermione repressed a laugh.

"Of course," Draco responded. "I'd love to go." He too was blushing, a light pink tinge alighting his pale skin.

"Of course," Pansy replied, lightly mocking Draco. 

And they were laughing. They were fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! We're all caught up to what I had on Wattpad.


End file.
